


Family

by rileywrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/pseuds/rileywrites
Summary: The Stilinski-Hale house is full of life and magic and were-children and hope.Derek couldn't be happier.





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my WIP for literally a year. Here's a slice of a future I imagined for Derek and Stiles.

"Ansley Hale!"

Derek is staring at a slew of vials and measuring devices and notes spread across his kitchen table, and the whole set up is too neat to be Stiles' handiwork. 

The distinctive clatter of combat boots on hardwood comes down the stairs, and Ansley appears in mere moments.

"Look, Dad, I know this is a mess, and I know I'm supposed to work in the workshop, but Papa's latest shipment is taking up all the bench space and this recipe is time sensitive and I meant to have it cleaned up before you got home but I got distracted by a message from Aunt Kira and--"

 Derek waits for her rambling to slow, stifling a fond smile at just how much his daughter reminds him of his husband.

 She shoves her glasses up on her nose, doe eyes blocked by thick rims.

("I don't like the contacts, Dad, they make my eyes get all weird. And I don't want to be were, not yet at least. I just... I like my glasses.")

"I'm not mad, pip. I just want you to get this cleaned up so I can get started on dinner." Derek gestures to her work. "I don't want to risk messing something up."

 Ansley whips her hair up into a messy chestnut bun, pulls on her safety goggles, and squares her shoulders.

 "I'm going in."

 While his eldest sweeps her latest witchy workings into the appropriate boxes and bins, Derek goes on the hunt for the twins. He finds them in their fort in the backyard, fighting over who gets to be the Papa and who gets to be Uncle Scott in their games. Derek is too fond of the little shits to be jealous of never being a part they fight over.

 ("And Ansley is Papa when she plays with us, a'cause she's the most like Papa," Max explained once. Marley just nodded solemnly behind him, her plastic arrows holstered and bow shouldered.

 When Ansley is Papa, Marley calls dibs on Aunt Allison.)

 "Max! Marley! Come inside and get cleaned up. Max, go help Ansley in the kitchen. Marley, can you see if Papa and Rosie are in the workshop?"

 "On it!" Marley is off in a flash, prompting a cry of "no fair!" From Max.

 Derek thanks his stars every day that only the twins are were. He doesn't know that they could handle five wolves in the family.

 By the time he wanders back to the house, Max and Ansley have her materials packed, and Marley has Rosie strapped to her back in the baby wrap.

"Papa's coming," the tiny pesudo-mother explains. "She's sleeping, Dad."

 "I can see that. You're being a great big sister." Derek kisses her dark curls, and then Rosie's blonde ones. "Want to help me with dinner?"

 "A'course, Dad. It's what we do, remember?"

 "Yes, I remember."

 ...

 "We're two males," Stiles had said, peering into the baby carrier on their front porch. "Accidental baby acquisition is not supposed to be something we worry about."

 "We're not a normal male couple," Derek points out. The baby smells like chlorophyll and ozone, but it's tempered with the rich scent of humanity. "She's not normal either. Half-fae."

 Stiles scoops up the tiny thing and passes her to Derek as they inspect her and her basket for problems, a note, something. 

 Because Ansley is amazing, by the time they get the newcomer inside, she had the bassinet down from the attic and set up in the master bedroom.

 "Hand over the sprog," She orders quietly, holding her arms out until Stiles places the tiny bundle in them. "I'm sixteen, so I'll be watching her a lot, so I might as well start now."

 "I'm not arguing, Banansley, but you might have to fight Max and Marley for her," Stiles says.

 The infant wakes, her little fists balled tightly and her eyes glowing green as she wails. Ansley holds her tight, singing a lullaby from Stiles' side of the family that Derek is 80% sure is magic.

 "There we go, Rosie posy," Ansley coos, face against her baby-warm hair. "I've got you. You're safe here. Hales take care of each other."

...

 Derek and Marley are neck-deep in preparations by the time Stiles emerges from the workshop. Rosie is gurgling happily from her place against Marley's back, drifting in and out of consciousness as the whim takes her.

 Every so often, Rosie's favorite air fern goes floating across the room in time with her happy baby noises. They've all gotten very good at dodging foliage since she arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> There. I finally posted something. Bless.  
> Ansley is Stiles' biologically. The twins are Derek's. Rosie is adopted.


End file.
